


Hourglass

by minghaon



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, ALS, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, I really can't lol, I've worked on this for so long I swear, It's finally over can you believe this, M/M, Major Illness, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:21:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minghaon/pseuds/minghaon
Summary: "If you believe in it, let’s meet again someday, another place in a healthy body."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hoshitokki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoshitokki/gifts).



> I'm going to dedicate (that sounds so formal lol) this to @HoshiTokki (Rasika), because this fanfic is the reason why we started to talk. That's why I'm really thankful to this fic, because it's brought me so much happiness this year. 
> 
> A version that's been beta-read by others than me will be posted, when it's done! 
> 
> Also posted on asianfanfics @Oh-Mr-Bias

It is soup, Junhui concludes as he looks at the bowl in front of him. It's nothing new. It's almost the only thing he's been eating lately and he's about to be very tired of it. 

Sighing to himself lightly, he takes the spoon and dips it into the warm soup. Glancing at the younger boy by his side as he takes the first slurp, he can't help but feel a bit bad for him.

Minghao doesn't really like soup, yet he's been serving it for his older friend so often now, that he's probably used to the watery consistency by now. He used to complain about how it was just water with some kind of taste. These days he cooks and makes it himself - just for Junhui, he always says and sends him a wink.

Minghao doesn't speak as they eat, hence why it's completely silent apart from the continuing slurping sounds between them.

Junhui's proud of himself once his bowl is empty. He didn't choke at all while eating.

\--

This is the hardest part of starting a new school year. The thought flies through his head, as he approaches the door to his classroom.

His heart is beating fast and hard in his chest. Trying hard to look somewhat cool, he forces his hands to stop shaking, taking a deep breath in the meantime.

He's nervous and he hates it.

Minghao had looked at him worriedly, asking if he would be okay. They had tried their hardest to get into the same class, but for some reason, it hadn't worked. They had been placed in two different classes. It clearly worried Minghao more than it did Junhui.

He was going to be okay, he told himself.

Finally entering the classroom after what seems like a very long walk down the corridor. Once in the room, he sighs relieved, realizing that there's only him and some other boy in there. Deciding that it's best for him to keep low - considering his not perfect Korean and how hard it is talking lately - he chooses to sit down by the table in the far end of the room.

\--

Looking around the classroom silently, Junhui observes his new classmates. Since he entered the room, all the seats have been taking, but somehow the seat next to him is still free.

Once again observing the boys filling the classroom, he can't help but feel relieved that he's not the only one who seems out of place. All over the room there's boys glancing at each other silently. There are also some of the social ones, who are already talking to each other as if they've known each other their whole life. He somehow misses Minghao.

"Hello," someone says suddenly, pulling Junhui out of his train of thoughts.

Turning around, he notices the boy who's now sitting next to him. When did he arrive? How long had Junhui just stared into nothing, without noticing the other at all?

"I'm Wonwoo," the boy says, holding his hand out for the other to shake in a handshake.

Looking at the boy - Wonwoo - Junhui can't help but be surprised by the deep tone of his voice. It sounds warm and deep, as if someone could drown in it any minute. The boy has such sharp features and dark, enchanting eyes. The longer Junhui stares at him the harder it gets for him to look away.

Shaking his head lightly, Junhui pulls himself out of the beginning trance.

It takes a couple of seconds of more staring, before the Chinese boy pulls himself together and shakes the other boy's hand. Feeling a lump in his throat, he does his best not to stutter. His heart is beating hard in his chest, as he hopes for himself not to mess up the seemingly easy words.

"I'm Junhui," he finally says, voice barely loud enough for the other boy to hear. The warm look in his eyes shows that he did hear.

A big smile finds its way to the Korean boy's face. What before seemed rather dark and mysterious, now gives the impression of light and happiness and warmth.

"It’s nice to meet you."

The voice isn't lightened up like the rest of the boy's expression. Junhui doesn't mind.

It's the first time Junhui has felt this enchanted by someone he's met for the first time. Whether if it's a good thing or not, he doesn't know yet.

\--

Junhui doesn't know why, but the look of Wonwoo's smile won't leave his head. The thought of Wonwoo in general won't leave his head.

The black haired Korean boy had talked to him through the class, probably noticing how nervous he was about everything. It had been as if a perfect Korean speaking Minghao had been there. It had felt comfortable and made him less nervous than he had been all morning.

Junhui doesn't understand how a person he's really just met can fill his thoughts like this.

"Hyung?"

Minghao is looking at him with a worried expression spread on his face. The look in his eyes asks the unasked question, that hasn't fallen from his lips yet, 'are you okay?'.

The older of the two Chinese boys knows how much the younger worries about him - he would too if he was in Minghao's shoes.

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?" he asks, ignoring the question he knows Minghao wants to ask him. The reason being, that he doesn't want to lie to the younger. Not again. It's too often, but he doesn't like it at all. It's just something he needs to do for the other to be able to handle everything as well.

The younger boy nods his head, letting a smile invade his face - Junhui likes to see him smile like that.

"The teacher said we could use it," Minghao explains, making his way towards the CD-player in the room. Pulling a familiar album out of his back the older watches him as the music start to play. "It's free every Monday and Thursday."

\--

It's been a long time - exactly how long, he doesn't remember - since he last moved around like this. It's the first time since the hospital let go of him, finally done with all the different types of tests, he's been doing this with Minghao. They used to go to practice rooms whenever they could to dance around, when they were younger.

Back when they were younger, both of them dreamt about becoming famous dancers. Things had changed since then. Minghao now wants to become a doctor and Junhui....

Junhui doesn't have a dream anymore. It's useless to him.

\--

Things are always easier the second time. The first time it's always something unknown - you don't know what to expect at all. Everything is new - the school, the students, the teachers, everything. But why is Junhui just as nervous as yesterday then?

Focused on walking and preventing himself from wobbling too much, the Chinese boy makes his way down the hallway to his first class. He doesn't know why he's so nervous about this. Maybe it has something to do with the black haired, good looking boy sitting next to him. He doesn't exactly know, but he has a feeling that that might just be it - he hasn't told Minghao about it. The younger boy wouldn't let it go for his life if he knew.

"Junhui!"

Shocked at the sudden exclamation of his name, he turns around, looking for the source of the voice. The deep voice should have given him away, but for some reason he's still surprised, when he comes face to face with the Korean boy as he turns around.

Doing his best not to seem flustered, Junhui looks at him with an interested face.

"Hi," he says, feeling his heart beat fast at the sound of his own voice. Once again, he didn't stutter. A proud smile finds its way to his lips.

Wonwoo smiles at him, knowing nothing about the nervousness the Chinese boy in front of him feels. He has no clue about what's going on in Junhui's head, but Junhui's not sure that he wants him to find out any of it either.

"Excited for class?" the Korean boy asks voice still as low as yesterday, once again making the Chinese boy feel warm in his stomach.

Shrugging his shoulders, Junhui doesn't feel the need to say anything. He settles for just that, somehow knowing that the other will still know what he means.

It's only the second day of this semester -which also means the second day of the Chinese boy going to this school - so it's still new. Yet, for some reason, class is never really going to be exciting at all. Maybe it would be if he could use it for anything, but he can't. Whatever he's learning here will not have any meaning to him in the future - he knows that.

"You don't talk much, huh?"

It doesn't really sound like a question, but then on the other side it could be. Junhui settles for just shrugging once again.

Wonwoo chuckles at that, knowing that he's right. The other doesn't really talk much. Not that he minds. Just looking at the other is enough for him, and that's where he stops himself, wondering why he would think like that.

\--

“Try to open and close your hand,” the doctor, Kim Minseok, instructs him doing it himself as well to demonstrate how it’s supposed to be done.

When he does it without any problems, Junhui feels a pride swell in his stomach. The smile on his lips is unintended, but there’s no use in trying to hide how happy he is about this.

“And your legs are fine as well?” Minseok asks before standing up and doing some weird movement that he wants Junhui to repeat.

Once again it’s no problem.

The doctor smiles as well.

It shouldn’t really mean that much, but it’s a good sign – a sign that maybe things will be alright for a small amount of time.

\--

The first thing Junhui sees when he gets to the practise room is not something that makes him happy. Actually it does the exact opposite, making him want to yell at something – most likely Minghao.

Minghao is in the practice room, but he’s not alone. Along with him is another boy who’s dancing energetically by his side.

He’s not someone Junhui’s seen before. The blond hair on top of his head and the small eyes are more than unfamiliar to him. It’s nobody he’s seen before – ever.

That’s when Minghao looks his way. The smile that’s placed on his lips falter slowly, when he sees the look on the elder’s face.  Before making his way towards the door – towards Junhui – he turns towards the blond boy and says something to him. The boy glances in his direction and sends him a small smile.

“Don’t get mad please,” Minghao begs the moment he closes the door behind him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips in nervousness.

Junhui hears himself sigh, yet the anger in him doesn’t seem to degrease the least.

“I told you, Minghao,” he sighs angrily. “I don’t want to get close to people.” Except for Wonwoo, he adds to himself in his thoughts. That part isn’t added in words for the younger to hear.

It’s something he’s said in a long time. Ever since they left China to come to Korea, he had told his friend not to try to set him up with new people. It wouldn’t do anything other than hurt more people in the end and that’s not something Junhui wants. They both know it’s not something they can prevent at all, yet they can do everything to make it less bad than it could be.

“Junhui, please,” Minghao tries to reason him, “It’s not right for you to keep away from other people. You don’t always need to think about others. Don’t you want to have more friends?”

He does. Of course he wants friends and of course he wants to act as if nothing’s wrong at all, but he can’t. He can’t do that to people, knowing what’ll happen in the end.

Another deep sigh leaves his lips. His hands find their way to his hair, messing up his own hair.

“I promise Soonyoung will be the only one I’ll bring without asking you,” Minghao promises, sincerity in his voice.

No matter how much he wants to tell his friend never to bring this guy again, he can’t bring himself to do it. The begging look on his face along with the sincere worry is enough to make him nod his head.

\--

“Look at the person next to you,” Mrs. Lee says in a very serious teacher voice. While looking at the students in the room, she reaches for the piece of chalk and starts writing on the blackboard.

Junhui turns towards Wonwoo as his asked to. Wonwoo’s done the same time and is now staring at him with his dark, warm eyes. A small smile is drawn on his lips and Junhui feels the corners of his own mouth rise a bit in return.

“Your assignment is to describe your partner. Who are they?”

The voice is still serious as it finds its way to the Chinese boy’s ears.

“Let’s get started?” Wonwoo suggests once Mrs. Lee is done explaining and answering the different questions that the students may have had.

They had to describe each other in a poetic way. A use of metaphors and comparisons would give you a better grade, she had said. Junhui’s not sure if his Korean is good enough for this, but at least he’ll try to get an okay grade – even though he’d probably not have anything to use it for.

Eyes focussed on Wonwoo as he takes notes, Junhui realizes that he kind of reminds him a panther. The eyes that belong to the boy are sharp and dark, and the rather round form of his face makes him look a bit like a cat. This mixed with the warm yet somehow dark aura, makes him come to the conclusion that a panther is the best animal to describe the other boy.

Nodding as a sign of approval Junhui reaches for his pencil to scribble down his notes about the boy. Gripping the lone pencil from the table, his eyes widen in horror as it falls right out of his grip. Staring at the hand that was supposed to hold it, he tries to pick it up once again.

The result is the same as before and the pencil falls to the table with a small bang.

Junhui’s gaze wanders between his hand and the pencil. His stomach feels like it’s slowly dropping as he tries to close his hand, only to realize that it’s harder than what it should have been.  

“Something’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks, pulling the Chinese boy out of his trance. His eyes are directed towards the latter’s hand.

“No!” the answer comes fast – maybe even too fast. “I’m fine,” he says picking up the pencil a third time. This time he uses his none dominant hand. Not looking at the other boy, he starts to write.

Wonwoo looks at him, yet he doesn’t comment on the clear messiness that is the Chinese boy’s notes. It’s better not to question it, he decides, going back to his own notes.

\--

Minghao’s text of ‘I can’t go practice today. :( I have to do school things with someone from class’ told Junhui that it would just be him and Soonyoung today. This was the first time ever since the younger Chinese boy had brought his new friend to their dance practice last week. They hadn’t talked at all the whole week.

Junhui isn’t sure if this is going to be awkward or okay.

“Where’s Minghao?” Soonyoung asks as soon as Junhui enters the room. His bangs are wet and clinging to his forehead, telling Junhui that he had been there at least 30 minutes.

“He’s getting laid,” he says shrugging his shoulders as it’s not that big of a deal.

The Korean boy blinks at him before realization hits him like a rock being thrown right at him. His mouth opens slightly as he lets out an ‘oh’.

“He texted you that?”

Junhui almost laughs, but decides against it and just shakes his head instead.

“He said he had to do school things,” he answers, raising his hands to make quotation marks. At the first try he remembers that his left hand doesn’t actually do what he wants it to, hence he quickly drops his hands down his sides again.

“Minghao doesn’t ditch dance for school things with a friend,” he explains searching Soonyoung’s face for any form for indication that he saw the awkward non-existent movement he tried to make with his hand. There’s nothing that gives away that he’s seen it and Junhui lets out a sigh of relief.

None of them says anything after that. They just move next to each other to do what they love so much.

Junhui likes to move his body. He likes to feel every part of it. It makes him feel alive; hence he doesn’t know how to feel about his hand. This was something he knew would come at some point, but he had dreaded it and hoped that the doctor hadn’t been right.

Knowing that this could be the last time he had the chance to dance while being able to feel his whole body, he falls into the feeling of his everything moving as he does the steps.

The feeling of Soonyoung’s eyes on him is hard to ignore, be he tries to anyways as he does what he’s best at.

It takes about 10 minutes for him before he needs to stop to breathe. It’s hard to get the air into his lungs, and to make it do what it’s supposed to do is even harder. His throat and chest hurt as he tries to breathe at a normal pace. Slumping back against the wall, he lets himself slide down slowly until he’s seated on the floor.

Soonyoung’s by his side the moment he sits down, offering him a water bottle. The cap is still on, making Junhui shake his head at is.

“I can’t open it.” It’s hard to get the words out, but once they’re there Soonyoung’s face lights up in realization and he screws off the cap before offering it once again.

When his breathing is finally calmed, Junhui drowns the bottle and lets his eyes fall on the worried face of the other boy. The way he looks at him, shows that he’s clearly surprised and he wasn’t the least prepared for that.

“I’m fine now, Soonyoung,” Junhui tells him to make him a bit less worried.

Forehead ceased in a frown, Soonyoung doesn’t seem to fully believe him. His hands are shaking slightly when he takes the empty bottle from Junhui’s grip.

“Are you sure?”

Junhui nods. His breathing is back to normal and everything’s fine – except for his hand, but he doesn’t say anything about that.

“This is not the first time,” he decides to tell him, hand placed on his chest as a sign to himself that he is okay and that his heart is back to its normal pace. “Minghao told you, didn’t he?”

It’s worded as a question, but in reality it’s just the little hope he keeps his grip on, that Minghao didn’t tell his biggest secret to someone he doesn’t know at all. Deep down he knows that yes he did tell Soonyoung about him and somehow he can’t get himself to be mad about it.

Soonyoung nods and shrugs his shoulders right after as if he’s not sure if that was the right answer.

“He said you were sick,” the Korean boy tells him, “But he didn’t tell me how. Just that it’s pretty bad.”

He stops after that, letting the words hang free in the air for a bit. Somehow it feels as if he wants Junhui to continue what he’s been saying, but the Chinese boy doesn’t say anything instead just heaving a sigh.

His hands find each other, and one plays with the fingernails on the other hand. It’s like a nervous habit and the noise of nails against each other fills the thick silence that’s erupted after the Korean boy’s words.

“It’s ALS,” Junhui informs him; sinking a mouthful of the water from the bottle Soonyoung had offered him. “My muscles stop working. My lungs are going to stop working too. I’m going to die.”

It doesn’t affect him as much to say it as it would have two months ago. The voice coming from his mouth doesn’t shake at all – which is new, but it’s been quite some time since he told anyone the last time.

Two months ago he’d break down and let the tears choke him up, being unable to say anything at all instead of just letting the tears take over and cry. He had been there and he had gotten over it. Nowadays it felt somehow right to say it.

No words are said by Soonyoung after that. Staring at the Chinese boy, the only sound leaving his mouth is a sigh. The Korean boy just stands up, looking at the other. Patting the still sitting boy on the shoulder, Soonyoung walks over to start a new round of music.

He smiles and sticks his hand out for the other to take. Once up on his legs again, they start to dance as if it was the last time they’d get to do it together.

Who knows, maybe it was going to be the last time.

\--

The scariest part about being born is growing up, and realizing that you’re not a child anymore. It’s the part where you have to stand on your own feet and think about the future. It’s when you have to go on after High School and choose what you want to do with your life – what you want to do for a living for the rest of your life.

Junhui’s thought and worried about that a lot. He believed that that was indeed the scariest thing he’d have to do.

He was wrong, he realized.

It was way scarier not having to think about those things.

Junhui doesn’t have a future.

It becomes clear to him, when he feels everything in his body retire and suddenly stop working. Everything in his body does what he had been looking forward to his whole life – it retires, stops working and goes on break instead.

He doesn’t like it.

\--

Wonwoo is staring at him – Junhui can feel it. Whenever the teacher is saying something and the Chinese boy looks at him, he feels the other look at him. It’s as if he wants to say something, but doesn’t know how to say it – or maybe he’s just not sure if now is the right time seeing how they’re stuck in class.

Though the constant feeling of eyes clued to the side of his head is pretty distracting at times, the older of the two ignores it until the end of class.

“Why did you stare at me?” Junhui asks, packing his books away into his backpack. It’s hard work with only one hand able to do the job, but he doesn’t give up that easily.

Wonwoo glances at him as he too packs away his books. With surprise in his voice he lets out a small “Oh, you noticed that,” but doesn’t elaborate further on the matter.

Waiting for the Korean boy to answer his question, Junhui keeps on struggling with his bag. It’s still the first book and it hasn’t found its way back into the bag. His attempt isn’t as gentle as it was in the beginning, and with all the failed tries his annoyance grows bigger and bigger – his attempts turning rougher and rougher. There’s still three books waiting for their turn, and the feeling of giving up keeps on creeping closer and closer.

The third time he loses the grip on the bag – his unwell hand is supporting the weight against the table – is the last drop that makes his annoyance and frustration spill over. Before he gets to yell at the bag, there are hands taking it from him.

“I wanted to ask if your hand had gotten better,” Wonwoo tells him gently as he places the other’s books into the bag. It doesn’t even take him two minutes and Junhui’s not sure whether he’s annoyed that it was so easy, or if he’s thankful for the other’s help. Seeing the hesitating smile his friend sends him, he settles for the latter.

“I guess it hasn’t,” he adds, giving the bag back to its owner with a small smile.

The sentence is more like a statement and conclusion than anything else. There’s not the least questioning tone to it, nor is it comforting in anyways. If he hadn’t known better, Junhui would have thought that there was a bit sadness of it, but that couldn’t be it.

“I guess you’re right,” Junhui sighs, mostly to himself, taking the bag from the other.

The look Wonwoo sends him as he walks by to exit the room, gives of the fact that he really wants to ask about it, yet he doesn’t.

Junhui’s thankful that he doesn’t, because he dreads questions about his condition – about him. It’s not even half of the questions that he’s able to answer anyways.

\--

Minghao was bound to find out about it at some point. Of course he would find out about it – they lived together. It wasn’t possible for it to be kept a secret for that long.

The younger boy stares at him, expression unreadable. There’s a short glimpse of hurt in his eyes, but at the same time the look of anger seems to blend with it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the younger Chinese boy asks, taking his friend’s hand in his. It’s turned and looked at a lot, in depth. The hurt is very clear in his voice, and Junhui finds himself facing the ground instead of his friend in front of him.

He wants to lie and tell the other that he doesn’t know. Something makes him unable to lie, instead just keeping his mouth shut for now.

The thing is that if he voices his reasons, Minghao will yell at him. He would probably tell him to suck it all up and be an adult for once – he wouldn’t mean it. That’s just how he copes with all the things going on with his best friend. It is way easier to be angry than to be sad.

Another reason is that he doesn’t want Minghao to feel like he does. The hope he knew was still inside of the younger would disappear – just like it had with him. Until the moment he had dropped his pencil, Junhui had fully believed that there was a small – very tiny – chance that the doctors were wrong, and that he just had some weird cold.

Now, however, that hope was gone and he knew the doctors were right.

Feeling his eyes get teary, Junhui decides to leave the room. Without letting his eyes land on Minghao once, he gets up from the couch and leaves.

No explanation is given, but somehow the older Chinese boy is sure that the younger already knows the answer to his own question. They’ve known each other for far too long – of course he knows.

\--

Something changes after that.

Minghao suddenly has a lot of school to concentrate on, resulting in him arriving home late at night, when Junhui’s already asleep or about to be. At the same time he’s always gone before Junhui gets out of bed in the morning.

The older of the two doesn’t blame his friend. The hope that he had tried to protect – to be able to be kept inside of the other – had been sucked out of him, just like it had been to Junhui himself.

\--

It’s been a long time since Junhui’s eaten something else than soup. The fear of choking and dying had simply been too big, yet for some reason all of that seems to disappear the Wonwoo asked if he wanted to go eat meat after school. The urge to reject his offer had been there – of course it had – but without giving it much thought he had accepted.

“This is really good,” Junhui says chewing far more times than he would have a couple of months ago. Despite the slightly weird consistence from all the chewing, it still almost melts on his tongue. It’s been months. He almost forgot how great actual meat was – not the over soaked meat from different soups.

He knows that Minghao would probably tell him not to eat it if he was there, but for now Junhui’s going to enjoy and savour the meat.

Wonwoo smiles at him and chuckles.

“When was the last time you ate meat?” he asks, amused at how much the other eats.

A shrug is sent his way and he can’t help the smile, when the Chinese boy mutters out an ‘I don’t know’.

The simple sentence might have sounded like a joke, or more of an exaggerated version of an otherwise really simple reply. But in reality it wasn’t. Junhui wasn’t sure if he answered like that because he simply didn’t remember, or if it was because it would be too embarrassing to say that it’s been months. Who went months without eating real meat – except if you’re a vegetarian?

Wonwoo looks at him all seriously for a second, but then he chuckles and shakes his head slightly.

“I was about to ask you if you were a vegetarian,” he admits, “but you can’t be since you’re eating meat now.” It’s finished by a nod towards the meat that’s on the way to the Chinese boy’s mouth.

Junhui laughs at that and shakes he’s head. He doesn’t seem like it, but his brain is running fast in an attempt to come up with an excuse. When he has said yes to going out with Wonwoo, he frankly speaking hadn’t expected the other to notice how happy he was to eat meat again.

Before getting to say anything, his phone vibrates in his pocket. Placing his chopsticks down as naturally as he can, he uses the same hand to fish the phone out of his pocket. Despite his attempt, he knows that Wonwoo notices how hard he’s trying to avoid using his bad hand.

When the phone is finally out, he looks at it, only to see a message from Minghao.

‘Where are you?’

That’s it. No emoji or anything else. It’s just three words, and Junhui doesn’t know how to feel about them. On one side his friend isn’t angry enough at him to not care about him, but on the other side the messaged seems so unlike the boy he’s known since he was five.

With a small, quiet sigh he replies with an ‘out with Wonwoo’.

From there he doesn’t expect another message, but he doesn’t get to place his phone down, before another message from Minghao comes.

‘Who’s Wonwoo?’

Junhui looks at the words, and something seems to crash inside of him. This was another thing he had kept from his best friend. This was another thing that would hurt Minghao. The regret rushes over him, as he imagines the disappointed look of his friend, when he realized that Junhui was keeping even more things from him. He’s not sure if he can forgive himself.

With another sigh, he replies to the message, telling him that it’s a friend from class. The reply he gets to that is a simple ‘ok’ and his heart seem to break a bit.

A worried look is thrown in his direction, when he returns to the meat. He just sends a small smile back, telling the other that it’s okay.

But if it’s okay, why does the meat suddenly not taste as great anymore?

\--

What he had expected, when Soonyoung had invited him to the party was loud music, drunk people and a lot of people – the Korean boy seemed like the popular type with a lot of friends. Hence it’s quite a surprise, when he’s only met by a small group of people. Exactly how many he doesn’t know, but it is way less than the hundred he had expected.

Soonyoung had greeted him at the door before pulling him inside, introducing him to a lot of people that’d he had only seen around campus before. This however, only lasted until the next person came through the door, and Junhui was left alone for the first time that night.

That is the short version of how he ended up standing in a corner by himself, silently regretting that he went to this without Minghao.

Looking at his phone, he almost flinches when someone touches his shoulder lightly. With big, shocked eyes he turns around only to be met by a familiar, beautiful smile – it’s Wonwoo.

“I didn’t know you would be here,” he says, his deep voice sending waves of comfort through Junhui. It’s the first time he’s actually feeling good since Soonyoung left him.

Wanting to say something, but at the same time not knowing what to say, Junhui keeps his mouth closed. He didn’t even know that Wonwoo and Soonyoung knew each other – but then if he thought about it, Soonyoung knew everyone, so why not Wonwoo?

“I didn’t know you would be here either.” The ending of the sentence is mumbled even though it wasn’t his actual intention. Knowing that it might not be the situation, he still hopes that the reason for the mumbling is the big smile spread on his lips.

The Korean boy doesn’t ask him to repeat what he said. Instead he just smiles at him, even though the other knows that he probably didn’t get what he said at the end – Junhui wants to beat himself up about it.

It’s the first time he’s experienced problems with talking, when he’s not nervous or tired in any kind of way. The reason couldn’t really be him being uncomfortable, since Wonwoo had swiped that feeling away from his body. This is the next step he realizes. After the hand, this is the second thing that confirms his condition is worsening.

“How do you know Soonyoung?” the dark haired boy asks him, when he realizes that the other’s not going to say anything.

“We dance together,” Junhui tells him, “Him, Minghao and I.”

Wonwoo looks at him for a small amount of time, and Junhui thinks he knows what he wants to ask. How can he dance when his hand is like it is? Bu he doesn’t ask it. His eyes doesn’t even land on the slightly elder’s hand. They just stay rooted on the other as he opens his mouth to talk.

“For how long have you been dancing?”

The question is kind of shocking, but somehow Junhui likes that. The interest that’s showed in him makes his insides curl up, starting to fill with butterflies that won’t stay still. That’s the effect Wonwoo has on him, and he’s not sure whether or not it’s a good thing, because Wonwoo has all the time in the world, but Junhui doesn’t.

He has to think about it for a second, before he opens his mouth to answer.

“It’s be-been years. Many years,” the reason why he stutters is known to him, but he wants to act as if it’s not. He wishes it was a shock.

Wonwoo looks at him with a small smile on his lips, as he lets the answer sink it. The way he looks at him makes Junhui’s insides curl up once again, and he feels a wave of warmth hit him – he’s almost certain that his cheeks are tinted pink.

Eyes still set on his face, Wonwoo asks yet another question.

“Do you have any other hobbies?”

The Chinese boy laughs a bit, somehow finding it amusing the way the other asks. It’s the first time he’s tried that someone – other than his family – is interested in his life, and for some reason it’s very enchanting.

“What is this?” Junhui laughs instead of answering the question, “Are we playing 20 questions, or something?”

Wonwoo chuckles and the slightly older boy swear that he sees his eyes glance at his lips before he speaks, “Do you not like to tell about yourself?”

That’s a question that he needs to think about. Does he not like to tell people about himself? It’s hard to answer even to him. Four months ago, he’d say that he does like to tell people about himself. Then he’d tell people everything and try to get close to everyone, but now? It’s too risky to get close to people. He’ll just hurt them in the end.

“I d-don’t know,” the answer comes as a mumble, yet he’s still sure that the other hears and understands.

A hum is the only reply he gets, as the Korean boy just stares at him. His dark eyes are glued to the other’s lips as he lets his tongue wet his lips shortly.

“Can I ask one last question?” he wonders out loud. His gaze moves to the other’s eyes for a small moment, before it settles back to the original view.

Seeing how it can’t hurt, Junhui nods his head slowly.

“Can I kiss you?”

Without thinking twice, the Chinese boy nods his head once again and within seconds he feels a pair of lips on his own.

It’s not his first kiss, but for some reason this seems more special. It’s not rushed, it’s not awkward. It’s just perfect, Junhui decides as he closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Wonwoo’s lips on his. The way they move against each other - the way they feel against each other - just seems so right. It’s feels so right and Junhui doesn’t think he ever wants to let it go.

If this is his last kiss, he’s satisfied with it.

\--

The next morning he wakes up in Wonwoo’s apartment – it was in the same building as Soonyoung’s.

The Korean boy is next to him, and he can’t help but smile at how cute his morning hair looks. The dread fills his stomach, when he tries to say ‘good morning’ to the other, but the words gets stuck in his throat and he only get’s to let out a ‘ning’. He coughs right after, trying to disguise it as nothing.

When he gets out of bed, he feels how heavy his right leg feels and another wave of dread flushes over him. His inside turns upside down, and before he knows it, he’s humping to the bathroom and empties his stomach in the toilet.

Everything is suddenly moving too fast. Time is running out.

\--

Junhui knows Minghao wants to say something. The younger had entered the small living-room with a determined look on his face. With a small sigh he had placed himself next to the other on the couch. With a nervous glance at the elder's face, he had opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again before letting out any sound.

That was five minutes ago.

The older of the boys doesn't say anything, but just keeps a look on the other, waiting for him to open his mouth and let out whatever he wants to say.

The determined look mixed with the clear nervousness makes Junhui nervous too. It must be something important he wants to say, yet at the same time something he's not sure how the older will take.

Finally after what seems like forever, Minghao opens his mouth and talks.

"Hyung, you and Wonwoo, is it serious?"

Tilting his head slightly to the side, Junhui looks at his friend. How he’s found out about his and Wonwoo’s current situation, he doesn’t know – he do suspect Soonyoung for telling him though – yet he doesn't know why the other would suddenly ask that and he's not sure how to answer the sudden question either.

Are he and Wonwoo serious? Is he expecting anything from whatever it is that he and Wonwoo have?

"Don't know," he answers quietly with his hoarse voice. The language that rolls off his tongue is his mother language, making it easier for him to say anything.

Minghao looks at him closely as if he's trying to figure something out. He's fumbling with his own fingers nervously, knowing that if he continues this conversation it might not end as they'd both wanted it to.

"Hyung, please think about Wonwoo," Minghao says quietly, knowing how much the elder hates every conversation regarding these things.

"Can't I think a-about myself for once?" Junhui asks.

His eyes are focused on the younger boy, looking as serious as ever. The last time Minghao saw him like this was, when he told him about his sickness. A couple of shivers run down his spine as he takes a breath before he talks again.

"This is-" he doesn't get to say more, before the older interrupts his train of speech.

"You were the one who said it was o-okay to be selfish sometimes. I am being selfish n-now, but now it's wrong." It's all let out in one breath, making it necessary for him to take a deep breath right after. 

"Why is it wrong for me to think about myself? I-I want to be happy too, Minghao. I-I w-want to enjoy my life too. I want to be with W-Wonwoo. I like Wonwoo," the speech doesn't stop. He keeps on talking about whatever and with each word the tone of his voice raises. Soon it's too loud and Junhui's surprised he can even speak that loudly - that clearly.

"You're going to die, hyung," Minghao suddenly exclaims, cutting the other's stream of words off. Junhui is staring at him. The fact that the younger went there surprised him. They never spoke about his sad destiny, but now the younger had said it and he doesn't know what to think about it.

"What about Wonwoo, hyung?" Minghao is yelling by now, warm tears visible on his cheeks. "How will he live with this? How can you do this to him?"

Junhui doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what would even be the right thing to do. 

"You're going to die and leave us all," Minghao yells before he gets up from the couch, throws on a pair of shoes and storms out of the door.

He's left alone in the living-room. There's an empty feeling in his stomach.

Where the younger has gone, he has no idea. It's fine though, he hasn't actually been at home that much lately. It's nothing he can blame him. Everything must be hard on him, Junhui tells himself as he too gets up from the couch and makes his way out of the apartment.

\--

Somehow - he really doesn't know how - he ends up outside Wonwoo's apartment. With dropping eyes, he stares at the door. Honestly speaking, he hadn't even been sure that he knew the way there - and it was pretty far from his own, so it was an even bigger surprise that he had been able to walk all the way here - but apparently it wasn't that hard to find, when your best friend had just hurt you pretty badly.

Deciding that he shouldn't have come here, he turns around to leave only for the door to open behind him.

"Junhui?"

His heartbeat picks up its speed at the sound of the other's dark, a bit hoarse night voice.

"What are you doing here?"

Turning back around, Junhui finds himself staring at the other boy. The sweatshirt he's wearing somehow seems to fit perfectly around his shoulders yet still fall loosely around the rest of his upper body. In contrasts to what he's normally wearing, his pants are also way looser and the Chinese boy finds himself liking this look a lot.

Finally after what seems like hours of staring at each other, Wonwoo moves a bit to the right to let the other into the apartment.

Not saying anything, Junhui finds his way to the familiar sofa in the living-room. No words fall from his lips at all.

It’s obvious that Wonwoo isn’t sure what he has to do. Standing awkwardly in the door to the room, his gaze is locked on Junhui’s tired form.

The look in his eyes is wondering and worried – wondering how the boy had been able to walk the long way to his apartment and worried as to why he had done it.

Asking if he wants anything to drink the only answer he gets is a shake of the head.

“Fought,” Junhui whispers when he sits down next to him. “Minghao and I.”

The question Junhui knows that Wonwoo wants to ask so badly is left out, and he’s more than just thankful for that. He wouldn’t be able to tell him what they had fought about. Not yet.

Instead a pair of warm arms draws him into a hug. It’s relaxing and exactly what he needs. His whole body relaxes - he hadn’t even realized how tense he was all over.

Nobody says anything. They just sit there, feeling each other being close.

They sit like that for a while, enjoying the silence before Junhui wriggles slightly in the embrace making the other boy loosen his grip.

Still sitting close with their arms around each other, Junhui looks Wonwoo in the eyes. What had been expected to be found was tiredness, yet there’s no such feeling. The only feelings visible are adoring and loving, and the Chinese boy doesn’t understand how he deserves that.

Without uttering any words – it’s become a thing to be quiet. Junhui doesn’t mind, he can’t speak that much anyways and just the feeling of the other being close makes him happy – the small distance between their lips is closed.

Exactly like the first time there’s no rushing. It’s only lips against lips – feelings against feelings.

Junhui likes it and he won’t give it up for anything. He wants this to continue forever, he thinks when he moves his lips slightly against Wonwoo’s own. He’s never actually kissed anyone before he started kissing Wonwoo, but it doesn’t seem like the other boy minds.

Even though none of them wants to, they separate to get the air their lungs deserve – and needs a lot.

It’s only when they’re in Wonwoo’s room, squeezed together in his bed that’s actually only meant for one person, the silence between them is broken.

“Pandora’s box,” Junhui says, voice just as hoarse as when he’s been talking earlier as well – the tiredness doesn’t make it better at all, “Do you know?”

The answer is no.

“Pandora got a box, b-but she wasn’t s-sup-posed to open it,” he stops for a second to get the needed air back into his lungs as well as his neck muscles under control. “But she did out of curiosity. She opened i-it and l-let all the evil out into t-the world.”

He doesn’t give up on finishing his speech, but he takes it as slow as possible. With a deep breath he continues, knowing that Wonwoo’s listening to his words.

“When she c-closed it, the o-only thing left in it w-was hope.”

He stops after that. It’s the end of what he wanted to say. Why he wanted to say it, he doesn’t know. It just felt so right at the moment, yet it might not actually be right.

It takes a couple of minutes before the Korean boy by his side says something.

“Why do you say that?”

The only thing he gets in response is a shrug. He can’t explain why it seemed right to tell him the story. Not now at least – maybe never.

\--

It’s about 4 am when Wonwoo wakes up again. Tiredness is still all around him and he wonders why he woke up now.

There’s a weird sound coming from next to him. It sounds like when he’s been out running and comes back having a hard time breathing.  Sudden realization hits him and he sits up in bed, eyes falling on the figure next to him.

Junhui’s lying still, not moving the slightest. His breathing comes in small breathes, each sounding like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever achieved.

“Yah, Junhui!” he tries to wake him up, shaking the other’s arm lightly. When there’s no reply he tries to shake it more violently.

There’s still no reply.

Not knowing what to do at all, he reaches for his phone – while making sure that Junhui’s in fact breathing – and calls 911.

\--

It's awkward to say the least. It's actually very awkward and Wonwoo doesn't know if he should say something. On one side it might ease the awkwardness, but on the other side the smaller boy sitting next to Junhui might just cut his throat.

Deciding not to say anything, he lets his eyes rest on the Chinese boy he knows so well by now. There's something different about the look on his face, but he doesn't really blame him considering that he was just very close to death. He's pale, but nobody says anything about it.

The awkward silence is interrupted, when their orders are brought to the table. Being as polite as he is, Wonwoo smiles at the waiter thanking him for the drinks.

The Chinese boy next to Junhui stares at him, face folded in wondering folds.

"Careful," the boy tells Junhui, when he almost spills his coffee on the table.

Wonwoo notices that the beautiful Chinese boy - Junhui - uses his left hand to drink instead of the right like he would have, when he met him for the first time. The reason behind it is still unknown to him, but somehow he has a feeling, that it'll soon be known and he's not sure if he'll like the reason for the boy’s gradual change in behaviour.

Honestly speaking, the Korean boy had noticed everything about the Chinese ever since the day they met. On the first day of school, he had noticed how the other had done his best not to embarrass himself. On their first day he had noticed how the other had looked at him. That day with assignment, he had noticed how hard it had been for the other to hold the pencil. He had noticed every small change and thing about the boy, yet he hadn't noticed how hard it had been for him to breathe throughout the night. He hated himself for that.

The fact that something was wrong with the tall, Chinese boy hadn't been a surprise. Ever since the beginning, he'd had a feeling that all the happiness the other brought him couldn't be forever.

It would have been too good to be true.

"Minghao," Junhui suddenly says, his voice a bit blurry as it's been the last couple of weeks. His finger is pointing at the boy next to him, but his eyes are fixed on the Korean boy in front of him.

He's introducing them, Wonwoo realizes.

"Wonwoo," Junhui continues, pointing a finger at Wonwoo, ending the word in a cough fit.

So this was Minghao, Wonwoo thinks. He should have known, because who else would have come to the hospital for the other and spoken Mandarin to him? In his defence it had been 3am at night and he had been too tired to connect those kinds of thoughts in his head.

Yawning slightly, he glances at his watch discreetly. It's 4:57 am - also known as way too early. Not that he minds. Not when it had something to do with Junhui. He would do whatever at whatever time if it had something to do with Junhui.

Minghao is still glaring at him, eyes burning. If eyes could kill, Wonwoo would probably be dead and buried by now.

"Stop," Junhui says, hitting Minghao's arm lightly, trying to make him stop glaring.

"You would be like this too if I almost died at Mingyu's house," Minghao tell him, switching to Mandarin.

The glare is gone, but he's still looking wearily at the Korean boy. His best friend had just been very close to death at the other's place. There was no way that he was going to be happy about it at all.

"Mingyu?" Junhui wonders, eyes locked on his friend by his side.

The face of the other pales slightly, making it clear that he hadn't expected himself to reveal that. There had been no talk about Mingyu in their conversations, and he hadn't expected there to be either - he had avoided it at all costs. The older had always been protective towards the younger, intending to keep all boys he hadn't approved of away at all costs.

"Moving on," switching back to Korean, the blond Chinese boy looks between the two other boys - clearly not wanting to talk about Mingyu at all.

"Do you want to tell him or do you want me to?"

The older of the Chinese boys sighs silently, leaning as far back in his seat as he can. A deep breath is taken. He closes his eyes shortly as if to clear his head before he looks directly into Wonwoo's eyes.

"I," Junhui starts. Just like the last couple of weeks his voice is hoarse, barely loud enough for anyone to hear what he's saying. It takes a couple of minutes before the boy continues, voice shaking lightly. "Am sick."

It's not a surprise.

But he wishes it wasn't true.

\--

Wonwoo lies in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The thoughts in his mind are running loose. There are a lot of different thoughts, yet every single one of them includes Junhui somehow. The Chinese boy's laugh, his pout even his annoyed face.

Everything is there and it doesn't seem like it's going to leave any time soon.

Time passes. The only thing he's doing is staring at the ceiling. At some point along the way, his eyes started to fill up with tears. He's crying.

The sound of his phone ringing is the only thing, that makes him move from the best and the miserable trance he's in.

It's Seungcheol calling.

Clearing his voice, Wonwoo answers the phone. Before the boy on the other end of the phone gets to say something, he beats him to it.

"He's sick, Seungcheol," he says, voice thick and hoarse from crying. More tears fall from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks. The salty taste in his mouth is disgusting, but there's nothing he can do to stop it. "Junhui's sick and he's going to die."

 By the end of his sentence he's full on sobbing. Everything hurts and he wonders how much it hurts for Junhui too.

\--

Seungcheol has never met Wen Junhui, but seeing how he’s made Wonwoo this sad, he’s not sure that he would like to meet him either. If they met, he’s not sure what he might do.

“It’s not his fault,” Wonwoo sniffles while taking the tissue his friend shoves his way. By now his nose and eyes are red and his whole face aches from crying too much.

“He knew he was dying,” Seungcheol tries to reason him, as he keeps on giving the other tissues for his never ending stream of tears and snot. “He shouldn’t have gotten close to you, when he knew that this was going to happen.”

Blowing his nose once again, the younger of the Korean boys sends the older an annoyed look. It was understandable for Seungcheol to think like that, but to the younger of the two it wasn’t right anyways. Wonwoo understood why Junhui had done what he had done, and he didn’t blame him for anything.

“How can you be mad at him for wanting to enjoy his last time on earth?” he wonders out loud, yet the question is clearly directed towards his older friend. “If he didn’t want to do that, he could have just killed himself, right?”

A silence engulfs the room after that. Seungcheol doesn’t know what to say about that, because Wonwoo’s right. At the same time he really can’t help, but be angry at Junhui though. No matter what situation he was in, he had still made Wonwoo cry more than Seungcheol’s ever seen him do before.

The silence stays for a bit with the only sound being the younger Korean boy sniffing. In a way it’s awkward, but in a way it’s not. It’s a conflicted kind of atmosphere. The older Korean boy doesn’t know if he’s supposed to apologize for what he said, and Wonwoo’s frankly speaking not sure if he expects that either.

Only when the latter opens his mouth to speak, the silence is broken and a kind of relief flows over Seungcheol.

“How much do you think it hurts?” the younger asks. He’s not looking at his friend. Instead his eyes are clued to the tissue in his hands as he’s about to start crying for the nth time. “How much do you think it hurts to know that you’ll hurt someone? To know that no matter what you do, someone will be sad because of you?”

His voice shakes and breaks at the last word, as he ends up choking back a sob.

It’s something he’s thought about. How much must it hurt for Junhui to know that no matter what, he will be the reason that someone is going to cry? The thought has grazed him a lot of times the last couple of hours, but he’s really not sure that he wants to know the answer to it. Just thinking about it hurts, so he’s sure that the Chinese boy is hurting all the time. Ever since he – probably - found out about his condition and until now, he’s probably hurting.

Seungcheol doesn’t give a clear answer. A small, quiet ‘I don’t know’ falls from his lips as a mumble. Then he leaves the room saying something about some food, even though they ate something just 30 minutes ago. Wonwoo doesn’t comment on it though.

\--

Junhui asked Soonyoung about Mingyu's address. Seeing how he pretty much seemed to know everyone around campus, he settled for him also knowing who this Mingyu person was. When he asks the Korean boy looks at him with a wondering look in his eyes, asking him if he's referring to the tall, good-looking Kim Mingyu that he knows. The Chinese boy has no idea whether or not it's that Mingyu, so he just shrugs his shoulders.

Soonyoung gives him the address, and that's how Junhui finds himself standing outside one of the dorm-doors on campus.

Suddenly unsure about this, he asks himself if he really needs to do this. Does he really need to talk to this Mingyu guy? Then he thinks about Minghao and that drives him to finally raise his hand to knock on the door, fidgeting nervously with the notebook that's in his hands.

It doesn't take that long for the door to be opened.

It's a boy who's probably around his age. He's not that tall but he's not that small either. He's about average probably, Junhui decides. His mouth is one big smile and his face is lightened up by that. 0

"Can I help you?" he asks sending a blinding smile towards the Chinese boy.

" Min.. gyu?" Junhui asks, the name leaving his mouth at a way slower pace than what he had wanted. It's normal nowadays though, which is why he tends to not speak at all.

The boy's smile seems to falter as he looks him over. It's sudden insecurity and doubt that's in the boy's eyes as he shakes his head. Without saying anything, he turns around yelling for whoever Mingyu really is. Glancing at the Chinese boy one last time, the boy walks into the dorm-room.

Junhui hears a quiet mumbling of words coming from inside as if two people are arguing a bit.

Hearing steps coming closer to the door, his heart feels as if it's in his dry throat, and he asks himself once again if it was really necessary to go here.

The boy that appears in the door is tall. He has a couple of centimetres on Junhui. His hair is black and he is quite good looking. This must be Mingyu, Junhui concludes as he remembers Soonyoung's description.

Before he gets to introduce himself, the boy starts to talk in fast sentences. Some of the words don’t get through his head to his brain, but he tries to keep up with the flow of words exiting the taller's mouth.

"I swear I didn't do anything. I did not take whatever you guys are looking for. I wasn't even there! I just happened to pass and-" he keeps on talking, confusing Junhui more and more with every word he says.

There's nothing he can do, so he just lets the boy ramble on and on, as he hopes that he'll end it at some point.

He does.

"Wait," Mingyu suddenly says, eyeing the Chinese boy in front of him. "You're not one of them."

The surprise is clearly evident in his voice. With a frown on his forehead, he tilts his head to the side - it reminds Junhui of a confused puppy, but he doesn't word his words aloud. Instead he just shakes his head, confirming the others statement.

Seeing the wondering look on the other's face, Junhui introduces himself.

The Korean boy's eyes widen in realization. There are a couple of splutters leaving the younger boy's lips, before he finally moves to the side and invites the other inside.

When Junhui had been seated on the couch - the Korean boy helped him and the feeling that he knew was creeping up on him from behind - Mingyu left the room, "I'll bring you something to drink," he had said hurriedly, before leaving the room to walk to the kitchen. He had come back with a cup of cacao and a straw.

Junhui eyed him quietly as he reached for his notebook, writing something in his messy handwriting.

_'You know, don't you?'_

It didn't seem like he needed to explain what he meant at all. The way the younger looked at him with big, a bit scared eyes, made him realize that he was right.

Minghao had told him about it. Normally Junhui would have gotten angry about it, because how would it ever be in Minghao's power to tell people about his health? But somehow he couldn't get mad about it. Maybe it was the beginning realization and understanding about what the younger went through with him being like this, or it was the tiredness from all the illness. Both were good guesses, but he really didn't know the truth behind it.

He doesn't get an answer, but he doesn't need one either. He knows he knows.

Observing the Korean boy in front of him, Junhui finds that he doesn't seem to be that bad. He's both good looking and nice - he brought him the cacao and a straw - and that's exactly what Junhui had deemed worthy of dating his best friend.

No matter how he looks at it, this guy seems to be good. It's not like he can afford to say otherwise. He can't afford to decline every guy who tries to get together with Minghao, nor can he afford to decline every guy Minghao wants to be together with. Nobody knows when he's going to leave this world, but he can't leave Minghao alone. He just can't.

"Thank... you..." Junhui forces out of his almost fully closed lips.

There's something in the attempt to say it that makes the Chinese boy proud of himself. It doesn't seem right for him to write something like that. It would seem too insincere and he wouldn't want that - not at all.

Having been about to take a sip of his own cup cacao, Mingyu halts the journey from the table to his mouth, instead staring at Junhui.

"For what?" he asks, voice filled with something that's hard to decipher. At first listen it sounds like excitement, but at another listen it could be seen as confusion or even a slight sadness.

It's all so confusing.

Settling for writing once again, Junhui does just that.

_'For being with Minghao. He needs someone.'_

That's what he's understood over the last couple of days.

The way Minghao had suddenly broken in front of him, yelled at him about how he was going to die and how that made everyone else feel, had proved it. It had proved that yes, the younger Chinese boy was just as scared and lost about everything as he himself was. It was just worse for his friend, he had concluded. In the end it would be him that was left - him that had to deal with the sadness from people who didn't know. The explaining that would have to be done would be left to him, while he would also be broken inside.

Junhui had realized it, yet he should have realized it earlier.

_'Do you love Minghao?'_

There's no hesitation, no stuttering, no pauses as Mingyu answers.

"Yes."

It's a certain reply. There's no insecurity in it at all. It leaves Junhui smiling.

_'Please promise me that you'll be here for him when I'm gone. He'll need it. A lot.'_

Once again the reply is clear and not hesitating at all. Yes.

\--

It’s going to be awkward. At least that’s what Junhui had expected, when he had decided to come by Wonwoo’s place to talk. Suddenly they had a lot of things to talk about, and the fact that he didn’t know what the Korean boy thought about everything made it that much scarier. Maybe he didn’t actually want to see him, not to talk about speak with him.

Hence it’s shocking to him, when Wonwoo just lets him in. A surprised look shows on his face for less than a second, but then he moves to the side to let the Chinese boy in without asking any questions at all.

Once they’re sitting on the couch together – Junhui can feel Wonwoo’s thigh touch his, and for some reason the warmth from the feeling gives him the strength to get right to the point – he starts the small speech that had been prepared in his head.

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo,” Junhui apologizes. “It w-was never my intention t-to hurt you. It was a-actually never my intention to b-become your friend. It just happened. I-I’m sorry.”

His apology is sincere even though he really doesn’t want to be sorry. He just can’t help but be.

“It’s okay Junhui. I don’t blame you. I’m not angry at you,” Wonwoo assures him, placing a hand on the Chinese boy’s thigh as some kind of comforting gesture. “I’m just happy, that now I know what’s wrong when things happen to you. That would have been nice to know before you almost died in my bed,” he continues. The mention of the incident makes both of them laugh lightly. It’s nothing to laugh about, but somehow it’s a comfort to both of them.

“I’m not going to almost die in your bed again,” Junhui promises. His hand finds the hand the other placed on his leg, and takes it in his. The feeling and sight of their fingers merged together makes him smile, and his heart picks up its phase.

Knowing the other is looking at him, he moves his gaze to meet the Korean boy’s. The eyes that belong to the other are as warm as ever, and the slightly older boy finds himself wishing that he could look into them forever.

Without hesitating or thinking twice, he decides to think about his own needs and wishes, as he closes the small distance between their lips. Just like all the other times it feels just right, and Junhui wants it to last forever.

Just like all the other times their lips moves against each other in perfect harmony. The only thing that’s not like the other times is the way Junhui keeps it going. This is not a kiss he wants to end. This way of feeling is nothing he wants to be over. It’s something he wants to continue as long as possible. He knows it’s going to be one of the last times they do this.

Going only by his own feelings, Junhui’s hands goes to pull gently at the fabric on the other boy’s torso. Maybe it’s his desperation that’s clear enough for Wonwoo to see, or maybe he’s running on the feelings in the moment too, but he gets the memo and pulls out of the kiss to remove his shirt.

Seconds later, the younger of the two moves to remove Junhui’s shirt too. With gentle hands he takes a hold of the fabric and pulls it – still with ever so gently movements – over the boy’s head. Once it’s gone, he returns to continue the kissing.

Not able to stop himself, the older of the two takes the chance to place his hands on the other’s chest – just to get an impression of how the other is built under his clothes. It’s firm muscles his met with, yet not the type of firm you get from fitness straining. It’s a natural form of firm and it continues down to his stomach as well. Junhui had never thought about what kind of bodies he might find ideal, but it seems like Wonwoo’s is a good guess.

Everything about the Korean boy is gentle at the moment. The way he moves his lips, the way his hips move slightly against the other as well as the way he pushes the other down to be able to crawl on top.

“Have you done this before?” Wonwoo asks quietly – softly – when he’s pulled back from the kiss to give both of them a chance to breathe – he might not need it, but the way the other is breathing tells him that he was right, when he concluded that the condition the other was in clearly made him need it.

Their faces are still right in front of each other. He feels the Chinese boy’s nose touch his own lightly, when he shakes his head as an answer.

That’s mainly the reason why he wanted this. If Wonwoo isn’t the right person to be his first and last, Junhui’s not sure he ever wants to try to have sex. Right at the moment there’s nothing he wants more than to share such a special thing with Wonwoo. He wants this, and he wants Wonwoo to be the one.

With a small nod and smile, the latter leans in to place a short kiss on his lips, before carrying on with his ever so gently touches.

The heart in his chest is beating fast, when he feels Wonwoo’s hands move slowly down his body. A look is sent his way to make sure that he’s completely sure that this is what he wants, and when he nods his head and smiles, Wonwoo mirrors him and does the same.

The Chinese boy takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He relaxes completely, and lets the other boy pull of the remaining of his clothes, leaving him completely exposed. He trusts Wonwoo – he would trust Wonwoo with his life if he had to – so no, he’s not afraid. The only feeling that’s felt as they move on is the love and the gentleness.

This is exactly how he wants their last time spend together to be like – comfortable, loving and unforgettable.

\--

The spot next to him is empty, when Wonwoo wakes up in the morning. There’s no Junhui resting his head on his arm – there’s no Junhui at all. He’s gone.

It takes him five seconds to realize, then he gets up to search through the apartment for some kind of indicator that last night wasn’t just a dream.

Everything that had anything to do with the Chinese boy was gone from the apartment – the clothes he remembered shredding everywhere last night, the cup of water he had given the other boy after last night’s activities, even the notebook Junhui had left at his house for times when he had a hard time speaking. There was nothing left – no sign of the Chinese boy ever being in the apartment.

Hoping that it’s just a bad dream, Wonwoo finds himself walking back to bed in hopes of waking up again with a warm body next to him – he doesn’t.

\--

Wonwoo’s awoken by someone knocking on his door. It’s followed by a yelling voice that he recognizes even in his sleepy state of mind. It’s not the voice he wants to hear the most, but instead the voice that belongs to his best friend.

Realizing that it won’t do anything to ignore him, he lets a sigh fall from his lips as he makes it out of bed. With heavy steps he makes his way to the door that hasn’t been opened for days. How long it’s been since he stepped outside is a mystery that he’s not interested in solving. He simply doesn’t care.

The first thing in sight, when the door is opened, is the worried look of his friend’s face.

No words are uttered between them as the older steps into the apartment and heads directly for the kitchen, carrying a couple of plastic bags.

The younger of the two doesn’t say anything, but walks to the sofa – the place where he and Junhui had shared their second kiss, the place where they had shared so many things – and sits down, letting the memories of the other’s lips on his own fill his mind. In the process his eyes are filled with tears that are falling before he notices.

It doesn’t take long for Seungcheol to join him, giving him a bowl of rice with a bit of filling before sitting down.

Seungcheol is the first to break the silence as he watches the other eat.

“Everyone’s worried about you.”

There’s clear worry in his voice, and Wonwoo keeps his gaze at his food in order for him to not look at the older, knowing well that he’d just cry again if he did.

“He really left. Didn’t he?”

There’s a lump in his throat, making it hard for him to speak clearly without choking up with unshed tears. There’s emptiness inside of him at his own words, knowing well enough that yes, Junhui left and he took everything that had something to do with him with him. It was as if he’d never been there, so why did it hurt so much?

“Mingyu said they went back to China,” Seungcheol replies.

There’s something clenching on his heart at the sentence – sadness and bitterness. He can’t help the snort he lets out, followed by a short, insincere laugh that sounds nothing like happy to other ears. Mingyu knew that they were gone, yet Junhui hadn’t bothered to tell him about his leave.

A silence falls over the two once again. Wonwoo suddenly doesn’t feel like talking - or doing anything else, but Seungcheol would force him out of bed if he went back.

With an encouraging pat on the shoulder Seungcheol tells him to finish eating and get ready, because he’s going to bring him outside and if he has to drag him, he will. With these words the elder boy gets up from the couch and makes his way towards the kitchen.

The younger looks at his back as he’s leaving the room, and for a second he sees Junhui’s back instead of Seungcheol’s and he feels like crying all over again. Feeling like he’s cried enough, he sinks the rest of the food, before he too leaves the room – and the couch he and Junhui had shared their second kiss and so much more on. He does his best at pushing the thought back, but it’s too hard.

No tears fall from his eyes, but his heart tears apart at the memory. What makes it even worse is that he knows that he’s never going to see Junhui again. Nobody told him, but he knows it anyways.

\--

The next couple of days, Wonwoo realizes how great of a friend Seungcheol is. In his down state, the older comes to get him out of bed every day. It’s annoying, but they both know that if he didn’t do that, the younger boy wouldn’t leave his apartment. He’d stay caged inside and swallow himself in sadness.

Thanks to his older friend, Wonwoo finds himself distracting himself from thinking about the Chinese boy. When he’s out amongst people, it works. Once he’s at home at night alone, he’s reminded of him and all they did.

The loss of the other and the longing to see him again never disappears – it just gets easier to bear as the time goes by.

He finds himself thinking less and less about the boy.

\--

The world is indefinable and nobody knows what the next day will bring. Some days you get the best news in the world, and others everything comes crashing down once again, when you’ve just gotten up from the last fall.

That’s what happens to Wonwoo as soon as he’s coping with everything, and started to go back to his old, happier self.

The crash comes in form of a knock on the door, and a familiar face on the other side – Xu Minghao.

The Chinese boy looks almost exactly like he remembers him. His frame is still tall, but thin. His neck and fingers are as long as they were two months ago. Only his hair has changed. Where the hair on top of his head was blond is now dark, brown hair instead.

Even though it seems like it’s only that small thing about the boy’s appearance that’s changed, Wonwoo knows that there’s so much more.

Wonwoo doesn’t invite him in. Instead he just stands in the door, staring at the other as if he’s seen a ghost – he might as well not be real if you ask Wonwoo. If Junhui had been with the Chinese boy he’d tell him to let them in, but Minghao is by himself and it’s not like they were best friends before.

Only when the younger boy opens his mouth to talk, the silence is broken.

“Junhui told me to give you this,” he tells him quietly, searching through his pockets to pull out an envelope. “The address for his burial is in there too.”

Wonwoo blinks at the words, hoping that somehow Minghao is pulling a prank on him, or that it’s somehow a dream even though he’s been awake for hours. Something sinks in his stomach, pushing the well-known feeling of nausea to the surface. No words fall from his mouth as he takes the envelope from the other’s hand. The movement is almost robotic – the younger’s movements are like that too.

The Korean boy takes a deep breath, calming himself and making it possible for him to talk without stuttering. Eyes focussed on the other boy – who’s doing anything he can to not look at him – he finally says something.

“When did he die?” he asks, voice a whisper, barely loud enough for the other to hear.

Minghao stares at him. His eyes look so different from a couple of months ago. There’s a loss in them – an emptiness that almost makes Wonwoo’s eyes water. The happy figure that Junhui had planted in his mind of his best friend is gone, only leaving this look of the younger boy – a fragile, sad and lonely boy.

“I don’t know,” the boy mutters, “He left and didn’t come back. Someone found him and called the police.”

The boy sighs at the memory from when he was told. It had been worse, when the older had disappeared than when they had found him passed away. The moment his friend had disappeared, he knew that he wasn’t going to see him again – not alive and smiling at least.

“I guess he didn’t want us to see him at his worst,” the Chinese boy mumbles. There are a couple of tears - that he failed at keeping in – on his cheeks. They’re wiped away before the older sees them – or he thinks so. The truth is that the older does see, but he doesn’t say anything. Only his imagination can tell him what the other might be feeling.

As the words finally seep into his brain, Wonwoo suddenly doesn’t know what to feel anymore. What to do, he doesn’t know either. The envelope in his hand feels too heavy and misplaced.

A long train of thoughts goes through his head, as he closes the door, entering the apartment once again. Junhui’s actually gone, and he won’t ever be back again.

(Minghao had told him to call Mingyu if he wanted to talk, but Wonwoo’s not sure that it’s going to make any difference.)

\--

_Dear Wonwoo_

_You probably never expected to get a letter from me, am I right? I kinda did expect that I had to write one. I used to avoid people, exactly so that I wouldn’t need to write a letter like this. But guess what, a lot of things change over time and you just happened to be the one who changed me._

_Anyways, if you get this letter I must be gone ~~and Minghao must have been a good friend for once, and given you this letter.~~ Six months ago I would be sad to write this, but I’m actually kinda smiling right now. I expected to die without any new friends – that was what I was trying to do, but when I met you that was ruined. I am really happy to have met you. _

_I’m really happy, but I’m also sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t think about you, but instead only thought about myself. Minghao told me it was okay to be selfish, so I was. I’m sorry about that._

_I’m sorry that you had to meet me, when I didn’t have that much time left. I’m sorry that you had to take care of me, and that you had to endure me keeping you in the dark all the time. I’m really sorry that I did this to you, but I still can’t help but be happy too._

_Thanks to you I enjoyed my last time on this earth. I was the happiest I’ve ever been since I found out that I was sick._

_I’m sorry that you had to meet me, but I can’t say I’m sorry about me meeting you, because that’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time._

_If you believe in it, let’s meet again someday, another place in a healthy body._

_Junhui_

_P.S. I won’t say I love you, because I know that it’ll only make it harder for you to move on. I will say that I adore you ~~even though I do kinda love you a lot.~~_

\--

Junhui loved him. Wonwoo smiles, because he had kind of loved him too – kind of loved him a lot.

\--

It’s the first time for Wonwoo to be in China, and he had hoped for the first time to be for a happy occasion. Secretly he had been imagining it to be the first time for him to meet Junhui’s parents, but instead it’s to say his last goodbye to who he knew for such a small amount of time, yet someone he loved so much.

It’s the moment he turns his back to the burial and about to leave, he realizes what Junhui meant back when he talked about Pandora’s Box.

Junhui was the box with only hope left, but once that was gone he had nothing. That’s why he decided to leave the way he did. That’s why he left both Wonwoo and everyone in China, when he felt it had become too bad.

His time was out and he didn’t have any hope left. He didn’t believe he had anything left – not even Wonwoo whom he loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter and tumblr @minghaon if you want~


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